Hair Today Gone Tomorrow
by dozefallsdownthestairs
Summary: Future superhero and current hospital resident, 6-year-old Alfred Jones is horrified when his beautiful head of hair is reduced to a shiny dome by chemo. Superheroes can't be bald! Luckily, the eyebrows boy in the room over is good at knitting and can totally make him a wig. That's how that works, right? AU young!USUK oneshot.


**Future superhero and current hospital resident, 6-year-old Alfred Jones is horrified when his beautiful head of hair is reduced to a shiny dome by chemo. Superheroes can't be bald! Luckily, the eyebrows boy in the room over is good at knitting and can totally make him a wig. That's how that works, right? AU young!USUK oneshot.**

**This is just a cute short that I couldn't help writing. It's based entirely off the song Rugs from Me to You by Owl City. It's a goofy song for a goofy story. :P**

**Enjoy!**

Alfred Jones is ridiculously disappointed. Ridiculously, outrageously disappointed. He knew having cancer was going to suck on so many levels. But waking up this morning to find that the last of his feathery golden strands has deserted him is just too much.

"I want a refund," he tells the doctor stoically, holding up a fistful of his own loose hair. The nurse is about ready to steer him back to his room, but he holds his ground. This is an issue that will be dealt with. "This is not what I signed up for."

The doctor chuckles, a hint of sadness sparkling in his crinkly eyes. "I'm sorry, Alfred. That's just the way it is."

Alfred frowns, because the doctor must not be understanding how serious this is. "No, it can't be the way it is. And it can't be the way it is, because I can't be bald. My dad is bald and he's old. I'm not old yet. I need my hair for things."

"Like what?" The doctor asks.

"Like for blowing in the wind when I learn how to fly," Alfred says in exasperation. "And for using in magic potions. And for making sweaters out of."

The doctor makes a face at the last one.

"But most of all, I need it for me," Alfred insists. "My head skin is too insecure to be naked. You don't make my tummy skin or my butt skin walk around without clothes. Why should my head skin?"

"Alfred, we'll get you a hat." The nurse interrupts impatiently. She steers him firmly back towards his hospital room. "The doctor is very busy and you don't need to be bothering him right now."

"But a hat ain't the same!" Alfred exclaims devastated. "I want my hair back. Look, I saved it. You just have to put it back." He runs beside his bed to fetch a plastic Solo cup filled with hair.

"Eww. Alfred, we're throwing this away." She takes it from him.

"No, you can't! You have to put it back!"

"It's dead, Alfred!" She bursts out. "We can't put it back."

Alfred's mouth drops in shock. "It's dead! Oh my god, it can't be dead! How could you kill my hair?"

She sighs. "We'll get you a hat from somewhere, okay, Alfred? Just get back in your bed like a good boy." She disappears around the corner with his apparently dead cup of hair.

This is even worse than he thought. He didn't think it was actually dead. He did suspect. But it was just too dark and dreary to consider. Now, he'll have to have a funeral or a memorial or something. Also, he's going to have to get some new hair from somewhere. But if that hair's dead, it'll have to be from somewhere else.

He starts to scratch his head, before realizing there's no hair to scratch and it just doesn't feel right. There's been rumors recently of a sorcerer taking hospital residence. All sorts of strange people come in and out of here. Maybe if Alfred can find him, he can grant his wish for a new head of hair. That's a thing, right?  
>Alfred creeps to the doorway again, slowly looking out. His nurse is nowhere in sight. With a deep breath, he jogs down as quickly as he can ducking into the room next door.<p>

"Hello!" He calls. "Are you the sorcerer?"

"Who are you?" A young boy tucked in with a basket and a ball of yarn scowls at him.

"I'm Alfred Jones, resident superhero. Are you the sorcerer?" Alfred trots forward curiously. He grabs onto the edge of the bed and tows himself up.

The other boy frowns, giant eyebrows crashing down to cover part of his eyes.

"Whoa? Did the sorcerer do that to you?" Alfred reaches out to touch the boy's thick eyebrows. "Just imagine what he can do for me." He touches his bald head in explanation. "I'm sorry about your curse though. I mean, they don't look that bad. They look like little pets. You should name them."

"Stop it!" The boy shoves Alfred's hands away from his face. "They're not cursed, stupid. That's just what eyebrows look like."

Alfred shakes his head skeptically. "I don't know. Are you sure the sorcerer didn't get to you?"

"Yes." His face turns red. "What do you want?"

An odd humming noise draws Alfred's attention to a box in the corner. Tubes flow out of it, twisting around till they connect underneath the other boy's nose.

"Whoa," He whispers. "What's that?"

"It's a ven-ter-stater... or..." The other boy blushes. "Something like that... It makes me breathe."

"Wow." Alfred gasps. "Why can't you breathe?"

"I've got really thick snot."

"Ew. That's so awesome." Alfred holds out his hand. "I'm Alfred."

"Arthur." The other boy shakes his hand after some hesitation. "What are you doing here? Won't you get in trouble?"

"I'm on a serious mission." Alfred sighs. "All my hair died and I'm looking for the sorcerer so that he can get me some new ones."

"There's a sorcerer?" Arthur asks in amazement.

Alfred rolls his eyes. "That's what I said the first time. Don't you listen? If you see him, you should tell me. I'm in the room next door." He starts to swing himself off the bed, but Arthur calls, "Wait!"

"What?"

"Can't you stay? Maybe... maybe I can help." He twists his breathing tubes around his thumb anxiously. "I know a thing or two about magic."

"Yeah, but I don't have time. I have to search for him. He could be anywhere." Alfred explains impatiently. "You can come if you want."

"Oh..." Arthur looks at the machine hooked to the wall. "I don't... I don't think I can-"

"Well, sorry." Alfred shrugs. "This is urgent. I can't be bald forever." He starts to walk out.

But Arthur calls out "Wait!" again. He hesitates just a second before grabbing hold of the tubes and weaseling them over his messy blonde hair. "I want to come."

Alfred looks at the thin boy skeptically as he slips out of bed. "I'm not going slow. You have to keep up."

"I can keep up," Arthur crosses his arms indignantly.

Alfred shrugs. "Okay, follow me."

They duck down the hallway, slipping into various rooms along the pediatric care unit. They meet several interesting patients, including a French boy who looks like a girl. Alfred and Arthur both agree that this must be the work of sorcery. Boys don't just look like girls. They find a boy who has the power to turn invisible. He talks so quietly that Alfred can't hear him for most of the time. Though, he is really jealous. Half the time, all he can see is the boy's stuffed polar bear. Invisibility is a way cool super power.

As they walk, he tells Arthur all about the kind of superhero he will be one day. Arthur is a good listener. He even has good ideas sometimes. It's because of him that Alfred adds heat ray to his list of future gadgets. Arthur thinks it would be a useful tool in making cookies. Alfred isn't sure about that, but when Arthur assures him that they would get done a lot faster, he is totally on board.

"You know, Arthur," He remarks as they take turns sipping on a juice box stolen from a Chinese boy with a Hello Kitty doll. "I think you'd make an amazing sidekick. You're even cooler than Robin. That's hard to do."

Arthur blushes a bit. "Really?"

"Sure! What kind of powers would you want?" Alfred asks. "If I'm going to have powers, you have to have powers too."

"I... I don't know." Arthur says uncertainly. He rubs at his side, breathing heavily.

"Are you alright?" Alfred asks, frowning. Despite what Arthur said about being able to keep up, he is really slow. Most people are sick in this place, though. It occurs to Alfred that Arthur could be really sick.

"I'm fine." Arthur insists gruffly, taking the juice box from him and sucking down a long determined sip.

"Okay, well, what sort of super powers do you want?"

"I... I told you I don't know."

"Mmmm... well, what are you good at?" Alfred suggests. "It could be like that, but cooler."

"I like to read." Arthur says doubtfully.

"Okay, you can be the genius." Alfred beams. "Easy, see. You'll know everything and we both won't have to go to school ever again because you just know all the answers."

"But I like school." Arthur insists.

Alfred rolls his eyes. Sometimes Arthur is decidedly uncool. "Fine, you can go to school. I'll stay home and get our super awesome speed mobile ready for when you get back. We can fight crime in the night."

"Someone has to keep the mansion clean," Arthur points out. "If you're going to be home, it might as well be you."

"Ugh, Arthur," Alfred groans. "Can't we just hire a maid or something?"

"That wouldn't be economical." Arthur says.

Alfred groans again. He can't argue against Arthur's big words. "Fine, I'll clean."

Arthur smiles happily. "Can we have a library?"

Alfred eyes Arthur's bright face. For some reason, he doesn't like making the other boy unhappy. He sighs, "Yeah I guess if you want to be that lame we can have a library."

"You can have an arcade." Arthur offers. "Just not near the library so it's not loud."

Alfred grins, "Alright. Cool. But first we have to find the sorcerer. I need hair for this dream to come true. Superheroes have to have hair." He starts to trot down the hallway. Arthur stumbles to keep up.

"Why?" He gasps.

"Why what?" Alfred looks at him.

"Why..." Arthur pants. "Why do superheroes have to have hair? I think you look just fine."  
>Alfred rolls his eyes. "You don't know anything, Arthur. What bald superheroes do you know about?"<p>

"Uhh... does Xavier count?"

"Xavier's a lamewad professor. No, he doesn't count, Arthur! He's in a wheelchair." Alfred throws his arms up in the air.

Arthur is clutching at his side, frowning. "What's... what's... wrong with wheelchairs?"

"Nothing." Alfred sighs. "We just have to keep looking, okay. I don't want to be a bald superhero. Hurry up."

He picks up his pace, ducking into rooms only to find more weird sick kids. No sorcerer in sight. The traces of him are everywhere though. One boy is charmed into doing whatever anyone says for a tomato. Another boy can only speak in gibberish and has to mime what he wants to all the nurses. (It doesn't occur to Alfred that he just can't speak good English. He's obviously cursed.) They reach the end of the hall with no luck. Alfred turns to Arthur with a pout on his face.

"This sucks," he surmises grimly.

Arthur nods, leaning heavily against the wall.

"I guess there's only one thing to do." Alfred looks at the stairwell door, stealing himself. "We'll have to search the other floors."

"Alfred..." Arthur frowns. His breath comes in rushes and his face is red. "Maybe... maybe we should... go back..."  
>"You want to give up?" Alfred asks incredulously. "Jeez, Arthur, I thought you were tougher than that. Fine, go back to your room. I'm going on."<p>

Arthur's shoulders sag in shame. "D-don't... go... without me." His voice cracks a bit at the end.

"I have to," Alfred sighs. "It's the hero's job, ya know? Going where no man has gone before, or something like that. I have to push on when other people are weak."

Arthur's face goes even redder and his eyes start to water. "I'm... I'm not...w-weak."

"I have to go, Arthur." Alfred says seriously. "When I come back, it'll be with new hair. Goodbye."

He doesn't get very far though. As soon as he pushes the door open he runs right into his nurse. He knows she is mad because her nostrils flare. "Alfred Jones, what in the name of God are you doing out of your bed?" She then notices Arthur and pushes him out of the way.

"Mr. Kirkland!" Arthur sags into her when she comes close enough and she scowls. "You naughty boy."

Arthur doesn't seem to hear her scolding though as his eyes slip closed. Alfred wishes he could just fall asleep when the nurse starts to yell. He expects her to get angry at Arthur, but instead she picks him up and runs. Calling out to several other nurses. Alfred is escorted back to his room by an angry-faced intern, who babysits him for the remainder of the day until his nurse comes back in to see him.

Alfred can tell she is still angry.

"What were you thinking?" She says. "Arthur can't breathe without his machine. Alfred you weren't supposed to be out of your room. You deliberately disobeyed me. Do I have to keep someone in here to watch you?"

"No," he mumbles. "I just said hi to him. He was the one that wanted to come and play with me. He was all by himself in there."

She sighs, but a bit of her fierceness chips off. "Don't leave without permission again, Alfred. Do you understand?"

He nods bitterly. The next few days pass in utter boredom. The doctors come in to see him. Chemo makes him feel sick and icky. His hair is still gone, and he doesn't think he'll ever get it back. Finally, one day he gets tired of following all the nurse's dumb rules. He's been good for a long enough time. That evening he slips out of his bed and creeps over to Arthur's room again. Maybe Arthur has seen the sorcerer.

"Hi, Arthur," He calls as he enters. He scrambles up onto Arthur's bed, beaming.

"What are you doing here, Alfred?" Arthur asks in a whisper. "The nurse will catch us."

"So?" Alfred sticks out his chest. "I don't care. I wanted to see you."

"Oh." Arthur blushes. "Okay." He fiddles with his breathing tubes. He isn't used to people wanting to see him.

"So you can't breathe without that, huh?" Alfred asks, pointing at the machine.

Arthur shifts uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"Wow." Alfred says. "And you came with me all that time without breathing. That's amazing."

"Thanks." Arthur smiles quietly at his hands.

Alfred grins. "You're okay now, right? You're my best sidekick ever. I can't lose you."

"I'm okay," Arthur nods.

"Good." Alfred nods back. He sighs. "I don't think we'll ever find the sorcerer."

Arthur frowns. "Yeah. But... I might be able to help."

"Really?" Alfred lifts his eyebrows. "How can you help?"

"I can make you some hair." Arthur leans over to grab a ball of yarn from his bedside table. He holds up a half-finished project beaming. "You can be a superhero with blue hair."

Alfred touches the blue yarn uncertainly. Arthur is looking at him hopefully. When Alfred doesn't smile back, he starts to wilt.

"Or... I guess... if you don't want..."

"No," Alfred interrupts. "No, I think I'd like blue hair. I just had to think about it. This is pretty cool." He can't stand making Arthur unhappy.

Arthur blushes again. "I work hard on it."

"I'll bet you could make us both capes too. Wouldn't that be cool?" Alfred smiles brightly.

"I could," Arthur says quickly, eager to prove himself.

As the days pass, Alfred comes in and sits with Arthur while he works on making his hair. The nurse inevitably catches him, but she doesn't force him to leave like he expects. She scolds him, but then comes back with cookies and juice boxes for both of them, which he thinks is a huge win.

When Arthur finishes his hair, it's a Sunday.

Alfred walks in with a happy, "Morning, Arthur! I got my Gameboy from home the other day, so we can totally play."

He scrambles his way up to sit on Arthur's bed. He notices right away that his friend is trying not to smile.

His blue eyes narrow suspiciously. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." Arthur says breathlessly, though the corners of his lips start to turn up. His green eyes glitter.

Alfred grins in a predatory way. "Nothing at all?"

"Nothing." Arthur keeps his hands behind his back. Now, he's all out grinning.

"I know you have it!" Alfred finally shouts when he can't take it. "Give it to me! Let me see!" He pounces on Arthur and starts to tickle him, trying to get him to take it out from behind his back. Arthur kicks at him from underneath the covers, laughing. Finally, Alfred pulls back, his nose nearly touching Arthur's. "Let me see!" He demands.

"Okay, okay." Arthur laughs, pulling out the small blue woolen cap. He holds it out, beaming. "Try it on."

Alfred snatches it and eagerly slips it over his head. "This is the coolest thing ever!" It's true that it's more of a hat than hair. But it's just a name. Alfred pats it down happily. "How do I look?" He's practically sitting on Arthur's lap, but he still manages to strike what he deems a manly pose.

"Cute." Arthur snickers.

"Cute?" Alfred's mouth drops in devastation. "I am not cute!"

"You are cute." Arthur says again. This time he blushes though.

Alfred hangs his head in despair. "You did this on purpose, you big meanie. You purposefully made me cute hair. Why? Why? Why!"

"Ssshhh." Arthur rolls his eyes. "Calm down, Alfred. You are silly." He pauses, hesitating. "You wanna know a secret?"

"What?" Alfred pouts, tipping his chin up so that their noses nearly touch again.

"Hair grows back."

"What does that mean?"

"It comes out of your head. See." Arthur grabs some of his own hair and lifts it up, demonstrating.

"You mean... it'll come back." Alfred brightens instantly. "Oh awesome. Guess I don't need the sorcerer, anyway."

Arthur laughs and Alfred suspects that he's laughing at _him_.

"Unless..." Alfred continues, determined to make a cool story of it. "You really were the sorcerer from the beginning and you charmed this hat to make my old hair grow back."

"Sure." Arthur shakes his head.

"Awesome." Alfred grins wider. "It's kinda sad though. I like having blue hair."

"It's yours..." Arthur murmurs. "You can keep it, and then whenever you want blue hair just, put it on."

"Hey, you're right." Alfred strokes at the yarn thoughtfully. "Why don'tcha make yourself one? And we can be superheroes with crazy hair together?"

"You still want to be a superhero with me?" Alfred watches Arthur fiddle with his breathing tube again.

"Yeah, I don't want anybody else." Alfred says solemnly, smiling when Arthur looks up at him. "We can get you a cool portable breathing thing that like turns into a jet pack."

Arthur smiles. "You wouldn't be able to keep up."

"Nuh huh."

"Yeah."

"No!"

"Yeah."

"Stop smiling at me, Arthur! I could kick your jet pack's butt any day." Their argument eventually trails into laughter. Alfred collapses sideways into Arthur with his Gameboy and they play together. No longer is his head skin freezing, but toasty warm. As he smiles at his new friend, he considers it quite a victory.


End file.
